Hunger Games: Bloodstone
by TwoWenches
Summary: *SYOT-Open* The 36th Hunger Games, 24 tributes walk in and only one will return... Action, Adventure, Romance, Friendship and Bad Humor Guaranteed!
1. So it begins - The Gamemaker

The 36th Hunger Games... It was a glorious streak, the games had lasted for thirty six years now, and Gauis Whishart couldn't be any more happier to be in his position. He had waited for eighteen years to get this position as gamemaker, and had so many idea's ready to burst out of his head and into the tributes arena this year... He stood reading over the list of things they had managed to put into the jungle for him. His grin formed slowly over his face. He started to pace around the small room he had taken to opening messages inside, it was the size it was for a reason. He hated large open spaces, and had forever been used to small and fairly enclosed rooms to make him feel safe. When he put both his hands out he could touch both sides. The colour scheme was up to fashion with current capitol times, a glorious mix of crimson and inky black. It was beautiful to stand in, but the suit he was wearing for the interview didn't fit.

It was his very first year as gamemaker, he needed to make an impression. The rainbow design was imbedded throughout his jacket, tie and trousers whilst he wore a plain, spotless white shirt. It was perfect, all he had was a few hours left until he was to make his first public speech on this years games... and he was the image of perfection. The first-time gamemaker shook his head as he turned to leave his room, and the openess of his living room consumed him, he hated the way the room had so much space. Places people could be, places for things to go missing. He moved as fast as he could through his house, heading towards his gallery. The image of his perfect arena was hanging in his perfect room. He didn't understand why he needed so many rooms, but even with all the money in the world, he couldn't stop them from making too much space in his house. Nobody seemed to understand why he became paranoid in open spaces, but he understood. Idiots.

His plans had been to take an old concept from before the war, something that was beautiful and creative and put it into the games. When he was younger he had been laughed at, been called crazy and told he didn't have a chance at being something like a gamemaker, but he had made it. He was finally able to make his dream a reality and all the capitol would remember this hunger games.

* * *

**HEY! **

**This is a SYOT that is being Co-Authored by two wenches, both of us who have a good love of the series and want to put something into the world! Please submit your tributes to us by PM, the profile is on our page!**

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District 1  
**Male: Brash Catchworth**  
**Female: Mohair White**

District 2  
**Male: Damask Mahogany**  
**Female: Indra Gail Lackson**

District 3  
**Male: Cable Tekks**  
**Female: Intelle "Elly" Lazzara**

District 4  
**Male: Minnow Nevermay**  
**Female: Alethia Dolfay "Allie"**

District 5  
**Male: Robert Blade**  
Female:

District 6  
**Male:Tanner Mustang**  
**Female:Name: Brylee D'Angelo**

District 7  
**Male: Glade Kazemi**  
**Female:Freesia Andromeda Sayers**

District 8  
**Male: Chase Rige**  
**Female: Valire 'Val' Morden (Vall-eye-r)**

District 9  
Male:  
**Female:Cammie**

District 10  
Male:  
**Female:Emi Hayate**

District 11  
Male:  
**Female:Bettony Assart**

District 12  
**Male: Edward Stone**  
Female:


	2. Old Wounds and The Beauty Queen

_Mohair White_

The morning of the reaping day and Mohair was awake earlier then any other tribute. She needed to look perfect for today, she needed the world to see her shine. Her hair was as gold as the jewellery of the Capitol, and it curled down her back in spirals of perfection. Her skin was a light bronze color, a perfect tone. Her eyes were glittering gems, and she had habits of making people do exactly what she wanted, when she wanted. She liked it that way. The Golden dress that had been picked out for her by her friends and paid for by some hopeless guy who was a year younger than her was perfect. It had a way of screaming money and beauty. Her time was now.

She spent the next half-an-hour putting her clothes on, going over her make-up, making sure her hair was still perfect and trying not to move too much. Her head was spinning with ideas as to what she would say after being picked. So many ideas, so little time.

Her bedroom was covered in pictures of the past winners, more so with those from District 1. Superstars, the most loved people in the whole of Panem and she knew her place was with them. She'd always had this hole in her that needed filling, no boy had ever done so and no sense of achievement in training could have done it. She needed to win the games. That was her purpose. On the far side of her room sat an old fashion dart-board, and deep within it was multiple knives. She had trained with those knives day after day, hour after hour. She was dedicated to her dream of one day living with the other victors, to have people want to interview her and know her life. She wanted her picture on other people's walls... It would be perfect.

Knock, Knock...

"Honey... are you okay? You haven't come out of you room yet... the reaping is going to be in an hour. I wanted to talk to you before you left, and you have a visitor who is eager to talk to you." Her mum's voice called in, timid and worried. Mohair wished sometimes that her mother would grow a spine. She never supported her dream like her dad had done, never encouraged it. She never watched the games, and it had all been down to her brother dying in them during the earlier games. She was a pathetic excuse of a human, it wasn't a wonder that her dad had left her.

"Mum, I'm getting ready. How many times have I warned you about disturbing me whilst I am getting ready?" Mohair hissed, and with that her mother's footsteps could be heard walking away from her door and back into the lower half of the house. She just started turning back to the mirror when she heard the door to her room open.

"I THOUGH I TOLD YOU NOT TO..." She shouted at the person entering aggressively but was cut off to see a boy standing their, she looked at him confused for a moment. She didn't recognize him right away, but when he gave her a nervous smile he recognized him. Glitz, he had been making big talk about volunteering last year after he turned 18 and had wanted to win the games for her but when it came to it, he had chickened out.

"Hey Mohair... your mum says that your volunteering this year, you don't have to you know... these people, you are already better then them. You don't have anything to prove..." He said, his chiseled features looking over her. "I think you look beautiful" He continued, and Mohair could feel herself shaking. He needed to leave now, before she lost it with him. "I can take care of you, it doesn-" The second he had said about her needing someone to take care of her she had flung round and punched him. He wasn't worth the air she breathed. The boy looked at her, clenching his bleeding nose before leaving the room. She sighed heavily and looked at her hand. She would need to redo her nails now, idiot.

* * *

_Brash Catchworth_

The Academy was all but empty now, most people where at home preparing for the games that would be coming around in a couple of weeks. Their was no doubt three or four people who wanted to volunteer themselves, but it had to be his year. The spear he had been holding was thrown at high speeds and collided with his target. He moved along to the next target. It was his last year, and Glass had joked about them being famous champions who would both win as siblings. A hunger games first, but that dreamed hadn't happened... He threw another spear, harder and faster. The thud that resonated from the room was louder, and echoed longer. He moved along to the next target in the room. It was the most expensive academy in all of district one, and he had been attending it for longer then he could remember. He picked out a spear and threw it, as hard as he could. The sight of getting a bulls eye with a spear made him grin with with something that screamed evil. He had the smile of Satan.

His sister had been sure volunteering early was the right thing to do, she had just been sixteen. If she had waited any longer, then we might have both volunteered the same year and she hated the idea of having her brothers name on her list of casualties. At the time he hadn't been bothered, their was always going to be someone who would have volunteered in his place and his twin sister was hell bent on glory so he didn't need it. But she had been wrong, she didn't win. She had been killed by the district seven tribute, and now district seven needed to be humiliated. Crushed.

He pulled out a fourth spear, and threw it screaming "FOR GLASS!" The spear missed, hitting the back wall and rebounding onto the floor, rolling towards him harmlessly. The empty room seemed to suddenly laugh at his mistake, his anger getting the best of him. 'Destined to fail' they whispered, 'Not good enough' 'Nothing like his perfect sister' ...

Eventually the heat got too much for him and he left the training room, heading out towards the exit of the academy. He needed to get fresh air, he needed to escape. The walk was one alone, and painful. He remembered so much about his sister and training with her here. His family had all been expecting her to slaughter it, and she had made the family disgraced, mocked for having a daughter to die by such a district. The tribute hadn't even gone on to win. District 7 needed to have it's turn to be humiliated. Brash passed by the locker that she used to have, he remembered clearing it out. Trying not to succumb to the glares people gave him. Today was a big day for the both of them. Today was the day that the Catchworth family go it's pride back.

* * *

Wade smiled from ear to ear, his job was escort to district 1. He had been stuck with bad districts since he started this job, but thanks to some idiots last year, the tribute from his district; district 6 had managed to win. He doubted the idiots had even been aware of the games around them, they had managed to avoid the anger of the other tributes and kept anything the gamemaker sent at them away. Yeah, the guy killed the girl with a brick a bit early but Wade hadn't been too fond of her either. She had a big mouth and wouldn't shut up. Anyone who walked past him gave him a baffled look, as even for the Capitol his choice of clothing was... questionable. He had red hair, pulled up into a Mohawk with blonde hair over the top of his hawk. His face had white sun-glasses and his face had tribal tattoo's. He wore a tuxedo that was white with more marking on that matched the ones on his face. He screamed nutter, not that anyone would point that out to him.

"Helllooooooooo District 1! I'm Wade, your escort and I'm going to be taking you guys to the capitol. If you guys and girls are ready, I'm sure you won't mind me picking out this years male winner to start!" He said, close to shouting as he dipped his hand into the small glass sphere. His hand spun around more then necessary and really wade sure that he got every minute of making the crowd nervous. Eventually he picked up a thin piece of paper and opened it. He had a beam appear on his face. "Do we have ourselves a TopazEverglow?" He nodded his head after reading out. Instead of Topaz though, a large and somewhat brutish guy walked out into the pathway up to the stage. His short toffee hair and hazel eyes having a haunting image of a tribute who had done the same thing two years ago.

"I Volunteer" He said, and walked up to the stage. Wade didn't seem fazed and handed him the microphone.

"Please, your name?" He asked, happy to accept a tribute that was going to keep him in the better districts. The guy didn't seem to hear the question so wade had to nudge him and ask him again.

"My name is Brash, Brash Catchworth" He said, Wade didn't even seem to recognize the last name, to which Brash couldn't help but mutter idiot under his breath. The microphone didn't pick it up, but Wade heard it.

"Onto the lovely ladies then..." He said, moving to the next bowl. He didn't take as long this time, and dove his hand straight in and out. "Please could Mohair White take the stage!" He called out, wishing inside he got someone that was going to be like Brash but more talkative. The girl who walked out made most male tributes stare. Almost all of them knew who she was, and most where jealous they didn't get to go with her. The girls who stared where jealous they didn't look like her. The two gave a stone, hardy look into the others eyes and shook hands. They where both ready to win

"Give a hand for District One's Tributes!" Wade called out, and was greeted with a salute of hands. Wade, smiled and hurried the two into the justice building.


	3. Distance Problem Vs Innocent Destruction

Damask Mahogany

It was still early morning on the day of the reaping but Damask was up. He couldn't sleep much the night before. Something in his head was telling him he should rest, but his child like mindset was not agreeing. After hours of laying there Damask gave in and arose at around eight. He drew his curtains and the sun shone across District 2. In the distance the Justice building glistened. It stood high above most things within the district, gleaming with beauty and radiance. The structure was marble and reflected the sun's rays revealing the village below. Damask quickly span and hopped of his bed. He ran across his room laughing absurdly to himself for no apparent reason until he reached the mirror on the far side. He stood there with a huge grin on his face. He then followed this up by leaning back, stretching out his arms and yawning. His arms slunk to his side and he skipped ungracefully to his wardrobe. He swung open the doors to reveal an immaculate white shirt hanging above a pair of black, straight trousers. Clumsily, Damask slipped the shirt and trousers on and then headed downstairs to the dining table.

He collapsed in a chair and sat there awaiting his mother who came rushing in with a plate of toast in her hands. She set it on the table in front of Damask and retreated to the chair opposite. The two of them sat there in silence until she worked up the question "So, are you looking forward to the reaping? You know, you're seventeen now there's not many more chances for you to volunteer..." Damask wiped his face on the back of his hand then replied "Yes I know there's not long left for me to volunteer, you and dad remind me every day..." With this Damask stood up leaving his plate on the table and and hurried to the bathroom where he stood gazing in the mirror. The reflection looking back had light brown hair, it was cropped in a buzz cut. His eyes were small and grey with a strike of blue in them. His cheeks still had a bit of chub in them which was surprising as he was seventeen now. He stepped back from the mirror displaying the rest of his giant figure. He stood about 6"1 and was muscular. Despite his intimidating size, he looked childlike, which suited his fragile mentality.

After spending half and hour washing and preparing he was ready for the reaping. Though he hadn't told anyone this year he decided it was time for him to volunteer. He had been training since he was a child and joined an academy at a young age. He never made many friends, even though he was a sweet boy, his child like instincts and emotions seemed somewhat repelling to the other kids from his district. No-one really understood what was wrong with him, they just kept their distance. Even though Damask only aimed to please people, the slightest mishap could cause him to pull a tantrum. Though they were rare his brute strength and skill with weapons caused them to be extremely dangerous. This year he was finally ready to make his parents proud. He was going to win the games.

* * *

Indra Gail Lockson

"Outstanding" Indra's tutor is standing marvelling at what she just saw. Indra had gone to the academy for some final training before the reapings today. She planned on volunteering so she had to get in all the practise she could before the arena. Her tutors comment had gone straight through her. She was somewhat distant from the world especially during training. Since the day her mother died, she'd seemed to excel at it. Each dummy was just another duplicate of the masked intruder that haunted her nightmares.

When Indra was a little girl her life was a paradise. Her mother was beautiful and strong, and her father was a loving and caring man. Indra meant the world to her parents and she would do anything to make them proud. Indra's life as a girl was perfect until that one night when she was twelve. Indra awoke to the sound of a vase crashing to the floor. She wasn't aware of the time, but it was dark outside, so she knew it was late. At first thought, Indra thought it was her father getting angry at her mum again, but the house was quiet... Too quiet. Panicking, Indra crept out of her bed and slowly left her room. She followed the walls down her hallway, leading to the top of the stairs. Her breathing was heavy now and her heart was pounding. Not knowing what too do, Indra ran down the stairs breaking the silence that shrouded the house. Then she came to a halt, a large masked figure stood there with a gun to her head. Indra tried to scream, but it was hollow and empty. Indra couldn't bring herself to move, so she just stood there, frozen. Suddenly before anyone had time to react, Indra's mother jumped in front of the gun and the man pulled the trigger sending a bullet through the front of her skull. She hit the floor and layed there in a puddle of her own blood. Indra dropped to her mother's side, desperately trying to nurse the wound but it was no use. She turned and screamed her father's name, just to see him standing there, cold. The murderer then grabbed Indra and took advantage of her. Indra's father did nothing but watch scared to meet the same fate as her mother. Indra doesn't remember much more from that night, however its still haunts her every dream.

Since the night of her mother's death Indra has grown distant from the world. Her father tries to convince her that none of it happened but she can see through his hollow lies. No-one really knows what happened to her mother, as far as they are concerned it was a heart attack, her father keeps it a secret, ashamed of his actions on that night. Many people see Indra as insane, the death of her mother caused Indra to develop sever post traumatic stress disorder. This has proved dangerous to those around her on the odd occasion, like when she scratched down one girls eye, blinding her. However most the time her PSTD just leads to Indra clawing at the flesh on her own arm. So this year, Indra has decided she's volunteer for the games not only to please her father, and what memories she has left of her mother, but also to try and re-figure who she really is.

* * *

Rosa was District 2's escort. She was about 5 foot tall and the most enthusiastic escort anyone had ever set eyes on. She stood there on stage wearing a pink dress, with over the top high hill boots. She had ginger shoulder length ringlets and wore the most ridiculous looking hat with a huge feather attached to the side of it. As she waited for the districts population to be registered, she paced around the stage waving her hands around majestically. After around five minutes of doing this, the last of the district had been registered. They stood there in an orderly fashioned, all looking somewhat disturbed and put off by Rosa's presence. Rosa sudden realise she was being waited on and strutted over to the microphone set up in the centre of the stage.

She tapped the microphone twice to check to see if it was working, which it was. Then in high pitched voice she shrieked "Welcome to the 36th Annual Hunger Games" The crowed stood there deadly silent. Rosa seemed somewhat unnerved by this but continued anyway. She stood there momentarily and glanced side to side trying to decide which name to pick first. She eventually settled on male. She stepped to the side until she was standing behind the large jar. Her short size caused her to disappear for a second, before you saw her petite hand reaching over the rim of the glass ball. She grabbed the first slip of paper she could reach and then strutted back over to the microphone. In a loud high pitched voice she read out "Damien Okami" The crowd stood their silent until it was broken with by a child's shout "No! Me, pick me!" The audience laughed. Everyone knew this voice to belong to the seventeen year old boy with a child's mentality, Damask Mahogany. The tribute ran to the stage and took a bow. He seemed somewhat enthusiastic for someone that just signed a contract ensuring their own death. After taking the bow, the boy stood there and ushered Rosa to pick the female tribute. Before Rosa could get a word in, Damask had plunged his hand into the sea of names and was already back standing in front of the microphone. In a clear voice he read out "Indra Lockson" Indra was prepared for this, she had planned on volunteering, but it seemed there was no need to now. Seeing Indra step forward, Damask hoped of the stage and flung Indra over one shoulder and carried her onto the stage. The crowd and those that had come over from the Capitol seemed traumatised by this. But none-the-less both tributes had been picked and district 2 was ready for the 36th Annual Hunger Games.

* * *

A/N:

Oh my word... The feedback you guys gave was so touching we went and did an extra chapter in a single day... Geez, it wasn't easy on us but hey you guys get lucky enough to have two chapters in a day!

Please, keep reviewing, sending in tributes and PM-ing us! It makes our day, and it will give us things to write about :)


	4. District 4 - A guide to Parenting

Minnow Nevermay

The tape was worn, fairly old and would have crumbled if anyone had been in charge of holding it. But not Minnow, he had been taking the greatest care with this tape since he was young by his father instructions. His dad's pride and joy, and the thing that fed his ego the most. He gingerly put it into the tape-player, and pressed play. A young man that looked too much like himself appeared, standing on a pedestal to one of the most earliest of games. His blue eye's that had a crazed almost frenzied look he had never experienced the sandy hair of the teenager was the same as the style he had on his head right now... It made Minnow cringe when he looked into the mirror. The large timer that was over the cornucopia hit zero and twenty four kids surged forward to the large metal box. The boy that looked like him picked up the smallest of daggers and managed to kill two tributes at that bloodbath. The tape was skipped ahead four or five times, but it was always for the same reason. Minnows dad claiming a kill, every time he used something different. A spear, a sword, an axe and at one point a seashell. This was supposed to be him, this was his year to volunteer... but he wouldn't. His dad had made it clear to him that his future was in the house next to his in the victors paradise. Close enough to the sea so they could go fishing every day and talk about his success in the hunger games that Minnow was entering. That wasn't the future Minnow wanted.

He glanced his attention away from the tape around his room. Weights, Nets, Swords, Daggers. He hadn't touched most of the equipment, he had always had to sneak away to avoid training. When he finally became old enough to get a job he had been grateful for the escape from his dad's pressures of training. It had been a way for him to finally put his time into something more... real. The hunger games always seemed like they would never occur for him. The only weapon in the room that had been used was the bow, and looking at it he wondered how good he would have been in the games. He wasn't exactly the most strongest looking guy in the district, work had given him little muscle power, it was without a doubt that the careers wouldn't have cared to have him tagging along. His only useful skills where fishing, swimming and his minor knowledge of archery. The sound of the door clicking open drew away Minnow's attention. His father stood their, smiling at him looking around the room.

"You ready for this Minnow? Your big year, to join your father in the stars... I know I haven't always been here, but the times I had trained with you I was always impressed and I already have made bet's that you're going to win" He spoke slowly and grandly, and at first didn't register his son's mood. A moment that probably could have been shorter passed when his father became concerned. "What's wrong Minnow, nerves?" He asked, tilting his head in a fashion that made him look fairly unattractive

"I was thinking... maybe I shouldn't volunteer this year, I mean we have a lot of stronger kids who would make better tributes..." Minnow said, starting to trail off. His fathers expression changed quickly, he was confused and then worried and then angry. 'Talk about a mood chameleon' Minnow thought looking at his dads face.

"No, your not backing out. Your 18, every year I asked you and you said you would wait. No more, you're volunteering. If you don't Minnow, I will make sure you remember this day. Ask yourself, do you really want me angry at you?" He said, his voice intimidating and full of authority. Minnow wanted to argue, to fight back but his voice was lost. "That's what I thought... now, get ready. You have a very big day ahead" He threatened, picking himself up and leaving Minnow alone in his room, to dwell on the thoughts of volunteering.

* * *

Alethia Dolfay "Allie"

"What are you doing here? If my parents catch you, they will kill you!" Alethia said, concerned about the young man who had turned up at her window. He gave her a cheeky smile and climbed into her room.

"I came to say goodbye, I'm volunteering for the games this year. Your parents might have stopped you, mine didn't. Allie, this is my year. I really wanted to see you again." He said, opening his arms for a hug. Allie rolled her eye's before giving in and hugging him back. "You worry too much, when I come back your parents won't have a problem with me... will they?" He said, wondering if she understood what he was saying. When she seemed oblivious he could only smile to himself. "I mean that we cou-" The sound of approaching footsteps to Allie's door made the muscled teen flee. Giving her one last wave before her mum walked through the door, glancing curiously around the room.

"I thought I heard a boy's voice Allie..." she said, looking at her sternly. To which Allie smiled and shook her head.

"Nope, most boys only speak to me to get to know Marina. You know, the beautiful, more attractive, more 'exciting' and more open then me... who would want to talk to me?" She said, and her mum just seemed to ignore everything she had just said to get out a small bag.

"Your Aunt dropped this by for you, she says you have been a 'perfect' employee at her shop and wanted to give you this before the reaping day..." She handed her the small brown bag and inside was a cupcake, blue icing with a starfish on. She smiled, her Aunt had listened to her idea... The only person who was willing to listen to her ideas and dreams.

"Tell her thank you for me mum?" Alethia asked, her head tilted sideways making her wavy long her curtain her face. She had to readjust the swirls of chocolate with her hand. Today she had to look nice for the reapings, not that she would need to worry. Some other beauty queen of four would volunteer and take my place. But maybe this would be the chance to get someone to actually see her instead of seeing a stepping stone to her sister. She smiled as she sat down onto her chair and started to prepare for the days events...

* * *

"The gathering of the children of your district... does it bring pride to you?" The cold, icy voice of Donald Flaggon said. The mayor of district 4 nodded at the comment, smiling. The two men stood watching the kids fill in for the days reaping, and they were again put under the cold glance of the escort for district four that had been the same since the first hunger games. He took great pride in his job here, and was glad that unlike the other escorts he hadn't been moved at all. He was now approaching seventy and his skeleton was becoming weak. He was a tall man, and unlike most escorts he didn't dress in ridiculous fashion or wear the worst haircuts. He wore a simple suit, and had a silver lining of hair around his head. His face was stern, and often scrunched into that of an old wise sage.

"Oh yes, to see this years crop of potential winners always fills me with joy... We have on average more winners than most districts, and so gives us reason to believe..." The short, pudgy mayor realised that Donald had stopped smiling when he mentioned the wins.

"You know what they call districts one, two and four? They call them career districts. I struggle to see the comparison, districts one and two are where warriors are grown and made. We have had three winners, and I plan to leave my job on a high note... How much can you guarantee that these recruits are the best for my last job?" He said, making the small mayor slightly nervous. "I didn't think so..." Donald said after the mayors failure to respond.

Once all the kids had fitted themselves into the small square in front of the justice building, next to the beach Donald took his place at the mic stand. He cleared his throat slightly, tapped the microphone twice and pulled out a small note for his speech.

"Welcome to the thirty-sixth hunger games, as you are all aware I have great expectations of you this year... I'm looking for a lucky young man and women to

represent our district, and I do feel like it is safe to say our district after all this time of me escorting you. Who will be lucky enough to be given honor of our tributes this year?" He said, moving over to the large bowl of names. He didn't announce the gender, or make any sort of statement as he dove in through the bowl to search for the death warrant of a teenager. He didn't make a deal out of it either. He was in and out, unfolding the name with a deadly efficiency. "Our first tribute is...Alethia Dolfay" He called out, and he stood watching the girl make her way to the stage. She wasn't what he had been wanting, she wasn't a lethal killer. It was okay, they still had the male. His hand dove into the other glass orb, losing interest in her before she had even arrived on stage. "Next we have Hunter Marlin" He said, and the boy who stepped out was what he was looking for. He had clearly been training, the boy didn't look happy about it and gave the girl a strange look as he started his journey up but it didn't matter. He had his winner.

"I VOLUNTEER!" The sound of the voice made Donald smile... they had someone bigger and better then Hunter.

"Come on up here then, we can't wait all day" Donald said into the microphone and as the boy approached his hopes sank. The Hunter kid was bigger, looked stronger and seemed more confident then this... The boy wasn't a shrimp by any means, but Donald had wanted a monster to tear apart the career districts. Donald had wanted a real winner. "What's your name?"

"I'm Minnow, Minnow Nevermay" The boy said, he extended his hand to Alethia and the two shook hands, oblivious to the cold watch of Donald looming in the background.

* * *

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	5. Rags and Riches

Glade Kazemi

Glade was finally ready. It was the morning of the reaping and Glade hadn't slept. He had planned on volunteering at the reaping today, against his parents willing. Although his father, the Mayor, supported the games and looked up to The Capitol, he always had frowned upon Glade's dream of becoming a victor's mentor. Glade had been obsessed with the games ever since anyone could remember. But being the Mayor's child meant that there was only a slim chance of his name being drawn. Ever since the first game Glade watched, he'd come home from school and pretend to be a tribute. He'd run around the garden screaming and shouting, engrossed in the ideas of becoming a competitor.

Glade stood there gazing into a mirror. He was tall and handsome. He had ragged shoulder length blond hair and the most piercing blue eyes. His build was a lot like a career's, he was muscely and stood at about 6"4. The majority of the kids within his district idolised him. He came from a rich family and was built like a brick wall. However his intelligence lacked slightly. It wasn't that he was stupid, but he didn't excel at anything either, apart from fighting. It was customary for the majority of kids to start work early in his district, so Glade could wield an axe by the time he could walk. Even though his parent's were rich, Glade insisted on working from an early age. Well at least he did until he saw his first Hunger Games.

Glade quickly became obsessed with the concept of winning the games. He dreamed to become the mentor of a future victor and knew the only way he could do this was by winning. Even though his father supported the games, he was against Glade's dream of becoming a victor. However at the age of ten, Glade gave up what little work he did and instead returned home from school to train in secret. His grand-father had left him replicas of an old victor's throwing axes. They were silver with a gold pattern engraved into them. The weight on them was perfect along with the balance. Glade's father spent most of his time in his study, and his mother owned a crafting shop. This meant that Glade could train in his garden without being noticed.

Years of being envied by everyone led Glade to believe he was above most people from Panem. He would show of his stature to everyone in his district at any given chance. In his opinion no-one was as smart, strong, handsome, witty and generally outstanding as him. He had to lead at everything. When he was not allowed to lead he occasionally had what could only be described as sub-psychotic tantrums.

By the age of seventeen, Glade had become deadly accurate with the throwing axes. He had even learnt how to craft and wield a two handed axe. Glade was recognised throughout his district for his career type build, however no-one knew of his plans to volunteer. The years of training gave him a distinct advantage at winning over the majority of his district, yet it did not guarantee him a place with the careers. Glade idolised District 1 and planned to lead the career pack in this years Hunger Games. He knew it was a long shot but he was determined. In the previous year, someone from Glade's class had been reaped. Glade didn't know much about the kid, however when he was ripped limb from limb by a career from two, couldn't help but laugh at the kid's pathetic attempt of survival. Finally this year, Glade was ready to make his district proud and put the careers to shame. He was going to volunteer.

Freesia Andromeda Sayers

"UP!" Freesia's father had wrapped his hands around her wrists and was forcing her off the examining table. Her body was frail and weak so it didn't pose as much of a challenge. She lay there on the floor in a heap, as pale as a ghost. Ever since her mother had died, Freesia and her sisters had been neglected by their father. Out of spite, Freesia starved herself to get attention. She would paint her face white and lay on the morgue's examining table until her father was forced to remove her.

It was the day of the reaping and Freesia had spent the morning doing what she always did, working in the church and trying to get her dad to notice her. Before her mother died the 'Sayers' family ran a hard working funeral business. It was Fressia's job to decorate the corpses before they were either burnt or buried. But now they live at the back of the woods in an old worn church. Their business is as dead as the family living there. As she layed there on the floor uncomfortably her father sunk into the old tattered chair sitting in the corner. He sat there deadly still and said nothing. Fressia got up and ran to her room, tears streaming down her face.

Freesia hulled open her cupboard doors and hung there stood a lone dress. It was her mother's wedding dress, worn and moth eaten. Freesia removed it from its hanger and slipped it on elegantly. The sleeves were ripped and there were holes dotted about it. She turned and traipsed across her room until she was standing face to face with the floor length mirror. The girl looking back at her had blonde knotted hair. It was dirty and greasy, swept to a side to keep it out of her eyes. The knotted locks hung down her fragile structure and ended just above her hips. She had small pale grey eyes and shallow cheeks. Those who knew her mother say the two look identical. However her father's stare still looks right through her as if she were invisible.

She let out a cold sigh, pains in her stomach that didn't really register anymore starting to rise with the thought of the hunger games approaching. She had stopped eating to become this, and it still hurt less then her fathers treatment of her. He didn't want her anymore, all he did was go about his job. He was selfish, but he would learn one day. She would eventually gain his love. The sound of hovercraft overhead drew her away from the wardrobe, and gave her nothing but the option of heading out the front door and to the games... alone and without her father to guide her.

Finnion Longridge adjusted his blazer and then stood there attentively on stage whilst the final kids filled in for the reapings. Finnion had been District 7's escort for so many years now that people struggled to remember who was came before. He had short styled brown hair, although it was turning grey as he started to age. He wore the same immaculate white suit every year and always wore the same sullen expression with it. When he first started he was a young, attractive games enthusiast, however as he aged he slowly was consumed by boredom. Since he had been the Districts escort they had one once and that was 15 years ago. Finnion had hoped for a promotion which he had not yet received. Minutes later the district was standing silently waiting for Finnion to start.

Finnion took a step closer to the microphone and began to speak "Welcome to the 36th annual hunger games, as ever I am your escort and like always we shall start with the males." His voice was dull and mono-toned. He trudged over to the large raffle containing every boys name from the district ages twelve to eighteen. He unravelled the paper and in the same indolent voice read out "Hain Wald" The tiny thirteen year old boy stood there momentarily, his jaw had dropped and his eyes had widened, the crowed all turned to face him just as the poor boy fainted and fell to the floor with a thump. The audience gasped but it was quickly silenced by a deep, gruff voice shouting "I volunteer!" With this every bodies head shot to the left to see a tall handsome adolescent standing their waiting for an applaud. Before anyone could react Finnion had let out a giant shriek of excitement and was frantically clapping his hands together. Since the last victor, Glade had been the only tribute from District 7 that would even stand a chance of winning the hunger games, no matter how slight it was.

Finnion who was now jumping up and down at the thought of a victor bounced over to the large glass bowl containing a sea of potential female tributes. He plunged his hand deep into the container and pulled out a single name. The name on the paper belonged to none other than Freesia Andromeda Sayers. The girl, who currently had her eyes fixed on the slip of paper Finnion was holding slowly made her way to the stage. She was wearing a tattered white wedding dress which dragged across the ground collecting dirt as she went. As she climbed the stairs onto the stage her dress got caught and the bottom teared. Freesia didn't even look down to see the damage she just continued walking, her eyes fixated on the paper. She finally came to a halt next to Finnion and dropped her gaze. What ever excitement the escort had been feeling before was now gone. He stood there for a minute staring at the starved, pathetic little girl from the church, hoping for another volunteer.

* * *

**A/N**

**Whilst school is on, our post rate will sadly drop xD  
BUT! **

**Good news! **

**We have seen how positive the upload rate is, and will be trying to upload a chapter a day at least! **

**We know also (Thanks to our reviewers!) have a Beta-Reader, but if anybody is looking to proof-check we could really use two as he has a busy schedule! **

**Please keep up the reviews and keep messaging us, it really does our moral wonders. Thanks guys!**


	6. Loose Screws and The Last Supper

Intelle "Elly" Lazzara

The streets of district three were empty during the early hours of the morning, but it gave Intelle a peaceful time to do her favorite past-time... to run. Her love of the sport came from when she was younger and picked on by the other district kids. Most of those in three had very thin, stick-like figures but for a long time Intelle was overweight. She hated the feeling of people poking fun at her, making jokes about her. She hadn't exactly been fat, but since he parents could afford to feed her she didn't end up looking as thin as most of the other people. Her self-esteem never really got very high whilst her brother was around, and had to cling to him to be able to have confidence to attempt anything. Her fear of him getting reaped was something that had caused multiple nightmares almost every night when she was younger. Him starting a job in a factory when he was eighteen was hard for her, and she found looking for more outlets for herself to do.

It hard started small, her doing small exercises in her living room. Something she didn't realize she would stick with. Eventually she started running as well, and it wasn't long before she was at a normal looking weight, alongside a fairly strong upper-body. That had been the start though, her new found appearance made other people point her out, and eventually she found herself learning how to use a sword. Someone had argued with her how much it would mean to her if she was in the games, or if her kids where going to be in the games she would need to provide them with something more then words.. and thats how it had started. Since then she had never looked back.

This morning however was ominous, anyone else who was seen out in the streets would most likely be going to visit a family, encouraging words and preparation for the celebration that comes afterwards when the child was not picked, or the support needed when the child was shipped off towards the capitol to take part in bloodshed.

The restaurent at the end of the road is where she finally came to a halt, walking inside to see her brother, parents and niece around a small table. A plate with vegetables and a slice of beef laid prepared for her. The sight of such things made her stomach groan, reminding her of when she used to starve herself.

"We know it won't be you being picked today sweety... but, we don't often get to treat you, so please eat as much as you can. It's real meat, and real vegetables. The expensive sort we never used to be able to have ourselves" Her dad said, getting up so Intelle could have a seat. She was speechless, and ate the meal in silence.

* * *

Cable Tekks

A cell, four walls and a single door. Also used as a power source, not to be confused with a battery. Something small inside an animal or plant. But the cell Cable was in was a prison. The justice building had him trapped, like an animal. He didn't have any choice but to sit and wait for his punishment, after today he would be gone. He had a single day left until his execution, but luck was with him... he could enter the Hunger Games! It was a genius plan, something that only he could have thought of.

"It won't work..." Someone said, but Cable ignored it. He had heard that sort of talk before, and hated it when they turned up. They sometimes made sense, but often just insulted him. "Your falling for their tricks, it's all a set-up" It continued, and Cable could only swat at the air in-front of him.

"No, no, no it will work. I have no worries, my plan will work. I'm a genius, your not." He said, wanting to be rid of the horrid sound of intruders in his cell. What had he done to be put in here again? His slightly damaged mind went through the last week. He had worked out the distance that he would have needed to jump the fence out of the district, and he had found the perfect building... but the stupid people. They where jealous, they had known. They had snitched! That was the reason he was now on waiting to be executed for trying to run away from home. No chance for a punishment like becoming an avox, or whipping. They wanted him dead, and chances where it was his parents... it was their fault!

He had been diagnosed with a silly old label, they had thought he was strange and they didn't believe him when he said the invisible people spoke to him. They said he had a mental disorder, but it was true! He could hear them now, mocking him. Schizophrenia, ad just like that the word was meant to make it all go away.

Whilst he would tinker and create, the voices spoke to him. His first dynamo had been thrown at the most harsh voice... the one that screamed at him. It had made it go away, and it had broken the dynamo. It had been a simple procedure for him to re-create, he had already done it once. But ruining his first invention didn't get rid of the invisible men. They stayed, even know he could feel them watching and getting ready to taunt him. They would go away after time... they would eventually leave him alone. The sound of the door unlocking snapped his head up, the peacemakers marched in ready to take him to the

* * *

The young man from the Capitol who was preforming the annual reaping, Miles Sennat, looked very uncomfortable, hunched over and shivering under a leaky, capitol umbrella. Miles stepped up to the microphone, not happy with the district he had to escort for or the weather that had turned up to make him feel wanted. His motions where those of a tortoise or sloth. He had no effort, and little interest in doing his job this year. He plucked the top name from the first glass orb. The card he was holding wet from the bad weather. He sighed as he struggled to undo the fasten with a single hand. "Ou-ou-our f-f-f-fir-st trib..tribute is Inte-te-telle Laz-z-zara" He said, stuttering from the cold of the weather. A girl walked out from the crowd and up towards the stage, her face was stony and she didn't seem to express any emotion. Miles then made his way over to the male reaping ball but before he could even start to reach in and call out a name, a loud shriek came from the audience. Cable lunged forward through the crowds, jumping up and down through the rabble of other skinny males screaming at the top of his lungs 'I volunteer!' again and again. Miles could only stare in horror as the ape like boy made his way onto the stage. He hadn't shaved, his hair was a brown nest of lice and he looked crazed enough to be a wild beast. "Wel-well... W-w-we have o-o-our trribbutes!" He said, and made a silent prayer inside. 'Looks like I'm stuck with this district again for at least another year...'

* * *

**A/N - The worst...chapter...ever... **

**So,so, so sorry guys for how badly this turned out :/ **

**Still, interesting tributes that I had some serious writters block for xD**

**POSITIVE NOTE: Interviews! **

**We are almost half-way through the tributes so, me and Owyn have discussed how we want to do the interviews for the tributes. If you have any questions for any of the tributes, please send them to us in the following format: **

**Tribute Being Asked: **

**The Question: **

**See, it's easy :) **

**We will be adding in our own questions to get over important plot points, but aside from that if you have seen a tribute you want to know more about send in a question. If it isn't used in the interview we will try and answer it best we can in-character :)**


	7. The Small and The Ugly

Chase Ridge

"Chase!" His mother was shouting to him, calling him to come down for breakfast. It hadn't been long since it was Chase trying to feed her. After Chase's nan died, his mother went into deep depression, she quit her job and distanced herself from the world around, leaving only Chase's father to work and look after the family. She was in this state for three years up until a couple of months ago when slowly she came back around. Since then she had got another job and is supporting the family again along with Chase's father.

As Chase sat at the table his little sister, Macey, came running in wearing a long floral dress. She had turned eleven a few days ago but was still a year younger than Chase. Chase thought it was odd as she seemed to be dressed too prettily for an ordinary day. That was when it struck him, it was reaping day. This was the one day a year that the majority of districts feared and so Chase had put it to the back of his mind. Having just lost his appetite Chase sat there somewhat unnerved by the thought. This year he wouldn't have had as high of a chance of being picked as last year, because now that his mother was working again there was no more need for tesserae.

The thought of the reaping was quickly dismissed as nerves had gotten the better of Chase like usual and he was now running to the bathroom to vomit. After about five minutes, Chase was ready to return back to his bedroom. As he climbed the stairs he saw his reflection in the window at the top of them. His dark hair stood up on end, but he refused to flatten it as his attempts are always futile. Chase was small for a twelve year old and had a lithe build, his eyes were green and his skin was olive. Chase had never been one to stand up for himself as a result he was bullied a lot by the older kids of his district which usually led to a breakdown, this encouraged people to bully him more as floods of tears streamed from his eyes.

He searched thoroughly through his wardrobe searching for a set of nice clothes to wear to the reaping but could find nothing but a shirt and some plain grey trousers. He slammed his bedroom door shut and slipped on his clothes. After a lot of hesitation and procrastinating, Chase kissed his mother and father goodbye and left for the reaping with Macey.

* * *

Valire 'Val' Morden (Vall-eye-r)

Val sat there drinking from the same bottle of unidentified liquor that she had been all morning. Her and her friends decided they'd stay up all night together, it wasn't like anyone of them would get any sleep anyway as it was the day of the reaping. It was still early in the morning when they returned to their homes. As Val entered her small house in the corner of District 8 she was tempted by the smell of porridge.

She joined the rest of her family at the table but no-one was talking. Val had three sisters, two older and one younger. Both her parents were still alive and well and her eldest sister was engaged. Val was known for her crude sense of humour but was not popular as she didn't have the 'looks'. She has thick wiry black her that reaches her shoulders. Her skin is red-brown and dotted with spots and her eyes are a muddy colour. Even if they're caked with make-up her lashes a close to non existent. A hooked nose lies in the centre of her face.

She quickly finished breakfast and headed upstairs where she found a sweet dress presenting itself on her bed. She assumed her mother had layed it out for the reaping, so she climbed into it without question. The dress was long and black and swept the floor as she walked. Usually she doesn't wear dresses as she claims they're not very practical, but for the reapings she occasionally made the odd acception. This year her name hadn't gone in as much as the previous because now that both her older sisters are working they no longer need any tesserae. Even though the chance of her name being drawn was slim, Val was still worried. It was hard not to be when your life was in the balance. Val knew that in the games she wouldn't be the first to die however she knew she wouldn't win. Against the career districts, no matter how determined to survive she was she thought they'd always hunt her down.

* * *

The day was a sickly nice one for such a cruel and sad occasion. The bright sun beat down on the concrete square where the children had been herded by swarms of peacekeepers in their blazing white uniforms that districts 8, Val's and Chase's district, had made.

The two children stood in the crowd, both unaware that this might be the last time they step foot in the large grey square surrounded by more grey buildings, it might be the last time they step foot in their home. While they stood amongst the other children that had flocked the square, each one wearing a mask that covered their gut-wrenching fear, District 8's elderly escort, Vicktor Elessroy, hobbled across the stage, leaning heavily against a bone walking stick. The harsh sunlight made the metallic blue patterns he'd had imbedded into his cheeks like tattoos shine brightly. As he reached the microphone that stood lonely in the middle of the stage everything seemed to fall silent. The birds stopped chirping, the children stopped murmuring, and even the wind that had been gently blowing through Vicktor's silvery hair seemed to stop. He had this effect every year. The children had come to fear him because of it.

Vicktor cleared his throat and growled into the microphone, "Hello District 8, and happy 36th Hunger Games. May the odds, be ever in your favour." He gave a false pitiful smile that he couldn't hold for long before he broke into a bark type laugh. District 8 never had the odds in their favour. The only district that had worse luck was 12.

Vicktor painfully made his way over to the boy's reaping ball. "Let's begin, shall we?" He reached his hand in and after a moment of rummaging pulled a single folded bit of paper out. He unravelled it and smiled crookedly, making eye contact with a few of the boys, this made them even more unnerved because Vicktor knew most of the district by name and if he looked at you there was a good chance that you were the name on the paper. Finally his eyes fell onto Chase. He smiled crookedly again Chase Ridge.

For Chase the name seemed to echo in the silence as he watched his world shatter around him. He started to panic, tears welling up, bile building in his stomach. Even the bullies had nothing to say, no one ever wished anyone else to be reaped, no matter how much they annoyed you. He stumbled forward and vomited over the floor. Luckily the crowd of boys surrounding him had parted when his name was called. Old Vicktor on the stage was cackling at the boys discomfort and continued to as Chase made his shaky way up onto the stage in front of the daunting Justice building.

Now came Vicktor's favourite part. He would make the tribute on stage pick out the second tribute's name. This was because Vicktor thought that in doing so the tribute on stage would feel partially responsible for the potential death of the second tribute and there was nothing Vicktor liked more than to put people, especially ones as innocent as children, out of their comfort zones.

Vicktor barked at Chase who was just about holding himself together, ordering him to go and fetch a name from the female reaping ball. Chase looked apologetically towards the crowds of females as he reached into the large glass ball. He opened up the bit of paper and stared blankly at the name that was printed across it. 'Well go on then! Read it, boy!'

Valire's heart came to a halt as she heard her name choked out of the young boy on the stage. Not her, why her? She started to make her slow journey towards the stage, swaying slightly. Evidently she was still a bit drunk. On her way towards the grinning Capitol man and the young, district 8 boy on the stage a million thoughts ran through her head. How was she going to get through this? She wasn't. Would be the last time she would see her friends and family. People she had been with just hours before. This was the end of her world. But then one final thought hit her; she could win. It was a slim chance, but she could and even if she didn't she would go down with one hell of a fight. At this thought she composed herself and made her way onto the stage, with her head help high.

Vicktor once again returned to the microphone " Well here are your tributes, District 8, I assume you're happy as we have no volunteers?" No one in the crowed moved.

"Okay then, thank you district 8 and happy hunger games" he said with another crooked smile. The Capitol's anthem played and he turned around and ushered the two tributes into the Justice building. As the doors closed silence once again fell across the large concrete square where the sun continued to bask district 8 in an unfair warmth and false happiness.

* * *

**A/N**

**Sorry the tributes weren't explained well I had sever writers block and had to get my older brother to do the last little bit :/**


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